


In Your Heart Shall Burn

by Maxdowt



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: No Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 07:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17914904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxdowt/pseuds/Maxdowt
Summary: Haven has been destroyed, the monster behind everything has been revealed, and the Herald of Andraste is In Pain™️, let's get this party started. My Inquisitor is a regular bucket o sass.Mentions of violence including shoulder dislocation and just generally being hurt. It is not graphic but if that throws off your groove, this may not be for you.This is a one shot





	In Your Heart Shall Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Thought I'd try my hand at some transcribing, scene comp, and just generally being a pain in Cory-face's rear, don't mind me.
> 
> Corypheus' lines are transcribed straight from the cutscene. I'mma source that junk let me know if I need more, yo.
> 
> [Heres the cut scene https://youtu.be/dvKSdiNvlfI] , as quoted for the Bioware game "Dragon Age Inquisition" released in November of 2014 by Bioware. I in no way claim the writing of the above game and use it only in part to create a non profit fan work

She looked at the monster flying towards her with a stunned awe and unquenchable hatred. Her twin daggers were clutched in her fists so hard that her knuckles were a pale white, the mark reflecting a green scar onto the metal from between her left palm and the grip of her weapons. There hadn’t been time to think before, no time to plan as the templars made mad by red lyrium had stormed Haven, as the beast in the sky rained fire down upon the people and storehouses, as members of the Inquisition started to drop. 

They had been people she cared about. People she thought she had saved when she had closed the breach. People she had sworn to herself that she would protect.

The Herald stood, bloodied and battered next to the last catapult. Her left hand stung and itched where the mark was, her right ear was still ringing from the explosions that had rocked the buildings, she stank of smoke and ash, and the majority of the blood on her body and clothes was not her own. 

“Move, now.” Her arm swung in a wide arc behind her, directing her companions.

And the beast finally was coming in for a landing, but not before a stream of fire erupted from its open maw. The Herald was tossed up and back with the force of burst. Where was everyone? Were they safe? Her head was swimming from the rough landing, she couldn’t think straight.

At first she thought she was imagining the figure stepping out of the flames, the dancing light creating shadows of demons for her spinning head. As she rolled to get up, she realized that there really was someone walking towards her. She squinted against the pain as she got a leg underneath her, trying to get a clear view of the figure making their way through the fire towards her.

The being looked off somehow, as though whatever he was was supposed to be human but wasn’t anymore. She could smell rot and ruin, though she couldn’t tell if it came from the being walking towards her or the archdemon that had hailed Haven with fire. There was no mistaking the lighting though, whatever they were, this being was tainted by red lyrium. It shone like rubies, embedded in his skin.

She managed to stand and got into a defensive position, only to realize that the grips of her daggers were now missing from her hands, most likely knocked loose by the blast that had blown her off her feet. The Herald decided to stare figurative daggers at the oncoming figure instead, in part to look like she had a plan and in a bigger part to mask her fear.

She felt the ground shake behind her and used her peripherals to see that the archdemon had indeed landed and was rushing from behind. The Herald didn’t know which to look at, but her eyes stayed trained on the tainted being stepping towards her from the fire. She trusted her gut and her gut said that the bigger threat was in front of her, not behind her. 

As the archdemon came closer, she couldn’t help but turn her ear away from the piercing shriek that it let loose once it was next to her. 

“Enough,” said the being from the fire, releasing energy in a burst to force the Herald’s eyes back to him.

“Pretender, you toy with forces beyond your ken no more.”

The Herald looked the being in the eyes, trying to see if there was even a spark of humanity left. 

“Pretender? Who are you supposed to be?” she was trying to talk the big talk, but couldn’t keep the pain out of her voice as she addressed him. The only hope she had was that if the archdemon and this being were here, they were not attacking the remaining survivors of Haven as they made their escape. She prayed that her companions would remember her orders and would join the refugees from Haven instead of hanging back to protect her.

“Mortals beg for truth they cannot have. It is beyond what you are, what I was. Now know me, know what you have pretended to be.”

He looked back into her eyes, his head bent downward so that his brow shadowed his irises. There was no humanity in them, nothing close to the warmth she had known from others, not even the echoes she had seen in the templars with the crystals growing through their armor or her companions in the jail cell at Redcliffe, in a future that would now never happen.

“Exalt the Elder One, the will that is Corypheus.” 

He raised a hand and pointed a long clawed finger at her. Despite the distance between them, the Herald could feel it as if it were puncturing deep into her chest.

“You will kneel.”

She stood her ground, praying that the time kept here would be precious seconds for the group headed through the mountains.

“Alright, maybe it’s a stupid question, but why? Why here? Now? What is this all about?”

The being shifted, his body moving unnaturally as though the solid stone that stabbed upwards from his flesh were itself flesh and bone.

“Your understanding is not required,” Corypheus paused, looking at her with what might have been pity if it had been kinder. “If you gain it, consider yourself blessed.”

An orb appeared in his left hand, glowing green from within but drenched in red from the being’s own power. 

“I am here for the Anchor. The process of removing it begins now.”

Corypheus’ right hand shot forward with a burst of red. The Herald’s mark started to burn and glow, reacting to his actions as it would to an open rift in the Fade. She stared at it dumbfounded, only shaken from her revelry when she realized that the being before her had started walking in her direction.

“It is your fault, Herald. You interrupted a ritual years in the planning, and instead of dying, you stole its purpose.”

Another burst of red shot from his hand. The Herald bit back a scream that would have rivaled the archdemon’s if she had given voice to it. The mark was now consuming her hand, green veins spreading from the palm and energy trying to pulse its way out.

“I do not know how you survived, but what marks you as touched, what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens.”

She couldn’t stand any longer, the pain was so great. The archdemon stalked behind her, screeching almost giddily. She hated that Corypheus had been right; she was kneeling.

“And you use the Anchor to undo my work. The gall.”

The Herald panted, her pain keeping her on the brink of blacking out with each wave of energy that coursed through the mark in her hand. She had to get answers, but most importantly, she had to stall for time.

“You...you think I wanted this? I don’t even know what this thing is. I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t ask to survive,” She finished this off with a glare, trying to keep her vision from blurring through the pain.

“I also don’t follow. What is this thing supposed to do?”

“It is made to bring certainty where there is none. For you, the certainty that I will always come for it.”

Corypheus closed the gap between them in two long strides. His clawed hand gripped the Herald by the wrist as his lifted her up into the air. The new pain from her shoulder dislocating was a distraction from the burning, soul wrenching feeling coming from her palm.

“I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods of the empire in person. I found only chaos and corruption.” 

He brought her closer and spoke directly into her ear. She struggled, but there wasn’t much to be done. Her body was one big ball of pain and every movement against him hurt more than anything she had experienced before. She flinched as he spoke, his rotten breath touching her cheek. 

“Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused, but no more. I have gathered the will to return under no name but my own, to champion with Tevinter this blighted world.”

She kicked her legs weakly, refusing to give into the blackness that crept into her vision from around the edges. She could see the red lyrium of his face reflecting her own terrified visage. When had the Herald ever looked so scared?

“Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods, and it is empty.”

Corypheus threw the Herald through the air as though the grown human woman was little more than a child’s plaything. She hit the wood of the trebuchet with her back and shoulders. The world was black for a moment, but the pain of her dislocated shoulder was starting to subside. She would have to wait to reset it, should she get the chance. 

“The Anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling.” Corypheus’ face was clouded with disdain. 

The Herald shakily got to her feet. A sword sticking up out of a corpse stole her attention for just a moment. Corypheus and the archdemon were leisurely making their way towards her. Why hurry? There was nowhere for her to go.

She pulled the sword out with her right hand, her boot planted firmly on the flesh below her and her left arm dangling uselessly by her side. 

“So be it, I will begin again. Find another way give this world the nation and god it requires.”

The Herald looked at him with eyes that shone like pure lyrium, blue and clear. Her mouth twisted into a smirk. With the blood slicking her hair to her face, her mangled and glowing left arm, and the two handed sword that she now struggled to keep between her and the would be god with just her right arm, she looked like a mad woman. 

“Are you about done?”

Corypheus paused in his advance, the archdemon taking a slight lead before stopping as well. Something about her had changed. Something in how she was holding herself, her entire personality had shifted from weak and powerless to...Someone entirely different.

“All this time you’ve just been focusing on me. You singled me out, separated me from my circle, destroyed the place that I’ve been staying. Me, me, me.”

She had his full attention now and was making a bit of a show of it. She let the heavy sword rest with its tip in the dirt and braced the pommel with her hip. She bit her coat collar to keep from biting down as she reset her left shoulder into its socket with her right hand. She had tears in her eyes and it hurt like hell, but Varric would have called it a ballsy move. Corypheus was definitely riveted. What did the silly little Herald have to say to a would be god? The Herald smirked around her mouthful of clothes. 

She spit her shirt collar out. At this point, she was flying by the seat of her pants. She wasn’t scared though, not anymore. She knew if this thing was human, even if it was a thousand years ago, then she could play him.

“You know what’s crazy? You give me a lot of credit for one person. You said yourself that you don’t know how I could have survived, right?”

She shifted her weight again, using her right hand to balance the sword on its tip  in the dirt and making it spin and wobble under her palm.

“I’ll tell you a little secret, Elder One. I’m not all that strong. At my best, I’m a noble born with a penchant for getting stabby and snappy one liners. But when the chips are down and all of my cards are on the table…”

She dared look away from him, down at the spinning hilt and pommel of the sword gently swaying under hand. This was what she was good at; stalling, shifting attention, deception, rogue skills mixing with her noble upbringing and her limited experience with The Game in perfect harmony.

“I’m awfully survivable. Now I think it’s because of the Maker, but I’ve also found it’s best to surround myself with people who would fight for you. Not just die for you, that’s kind of a waste of a life, but somehow I have this way of inspiring people, and I’ve become kind of an idea for people to follow. See, people die, but ideas...”

His eyes were on the sword. She lifted her hands up to shoulder height, killing her left shoulder but the drama of it was worth it, letting the sword fall in a twirling arc as it followed its spin to the right.

“Ideas live on!”

While he had been focusing on the spinning sword, she had been twirling it and shifting herself closer to the release lever of the catapult. She placed a boot on it and released it with a large “Ka-chunk.”

“So congrats, Corypheus, on taking Haven! Unfortunately, the Inquisition knows who to look for, that you have a giant rotting dragon, and they’re pretty p*ssed off that you probably killed their chosen mouthpiece and the Divine, but hey, here’s your consolation prize!”

The stone hit its mark and the avalanche started crashing down the mountain, the chain reactions of rock hitting snow snow hitting rock caused a rush of litter and debris that tumbled down on a destructive rampage towards Haven.

“You should have focused on your real enemy all along, Corypheus!” He could barely hear her over the rush coming towards them. The archdemon wrapped its claws around him and made to take off.

“No matter what happens to me, Maker willing, it’s the Inquisition that will kill you!”

As the dragon flapped upwards, the Herald made a split second decision to jump down. She heard a crack as the wood beneath her feet gave and then, darkness. Maker willing, they’d stop him. Maker willing.


End file.
